If I told you that I loved you
by Jem Kallop
Summary: Bakura hasn't seen Marik in a few days, and something is weighing heavily on his mind. "I have had enough of waiting, of watching but not touching, of wanting but not being. Gods know I have had little enough pleasure in my many liftetimes; isn't it about time I got something of my own?" Very fluffy thiefshipping oneshot. Rated T just in case, but nothing bad at all XD


**Ok, so this is for the Prompt Exchange Challenge run by Unattainable Dreams, where people get assigned a prompt from other authors once a month. Go check out the forum (called 'Prompt Exchange Challenge') and/or PM Unattainable Dreams if you're interested in getting involved! This is thiefshipping (Yami Bakura/Marik Ishtar), because I love it, and it is very fluffy. It is supposed to take place after Battle City but before the Memory World, although they might be hideously OOC, for which I profusely apologise. XD Enjoy! – Jem**

"If I told you that I loved you, what would you say?" **[Prompt sent by Shadowfox26]**

The phone weighs heavily in my hand as I stare at it, frown creasing my features. This is completely ridiculous. The cracked screen blinks and flickers, the backlight probably dying along with everything else that's wrong with it; Marik's always telling me to get a new one.

_"That thing isn't even fit to flush down the toilet!" He laughed with a cheeky grin._

_I merely scowled back. "Yes, Marik, because you're such an expert on modern technology."_

_"More than you, anyway!" He frowned. "And I don't have anywhere near as much experience. You must be getting slow in your old age."_

That's a favourite jibe of his; poking fun at my age. I never rise to it, though – to me, it is just another reminder of the thousand and one things that separate us.

Which is precisely why today is such a bad idea.

The phone blinks back up at me innocently and I look away with a scowl, trying to ignore the crease that seems to be folding my gut in half. I can't put up with this for much longer, it's the same every time we've gone a few days without speaking; I can never help but imagine the worst. What if he got injured? Mugged? Beaten? The Pharaoh and his stupid gang finally betrayed him again, or found out about the fact that he's still in contact with me? I have no doubt that _that_ wouldn't end pleasantly. It was one of the first things I told him, when I found him again: "If you are caught with me, the consequences will not exactly be pleasant."

"I know," Was all he had said before catching me in a quick hug. There might have been a whispered "I missed you." If there was, I ignored it, and he acted as if it had never been said. We had quickly slipped back into our familiar routine; a jibe here, an insult there, but for some reason we always came back for more. Marik had even helped me get my own flat, here in Egypt, whilst I wait for the final shadow game to begin when the Pharaoh finally returns to his homeland. I haven't forgotten my revenge, however much it may seem that way; a fact that Marik, in his newly 'reformed' state, chooses to ignore.

He comes around most days, or calls at least, but I have never called or visited him. Of course, the latter would be impossible anyway, because his siblings would never condone this friendship – I _am_ the devil incarnate, after all, as the demon within my soul likes to remind me; Zorc may be separate, but he is still most definitely present. The other sharer in the Ring, the light one, keeps his distance, but he has something to say now: _You should just call him. It would be better that way._

I ignore him, as ever, but he persists anyway. He is a strange one, that child; he lives with two dark ancient beings and still manages to smile. I should probably let him out soon.

I mull over his words, phone still a heavy presence in my hand. _Just call him._ Why is it so damn hard? It isn't as if he would turn me away, and even if he does, it's not like I would _care._

_Except you would. Deep down, you know you would._

Damn that boy. Always so perceptive. Well, he's right about this one, but that just makes it worse. Today was the day I had planned to tell Marik. I told myself yesterday, _promised_ myself that if I hadn't heard from him by morning, I would call him and tell him myself. My time is too short, now, to be constantly beating around the bush, and I have never had problems with taking what I want before. I should just take Marik. Everything would be so much simpler that way.

Except that I couldn't.

I had considered it, at first; back when I first realised what he was making me feel. A quick fling, a good lay, and it would all be over; or so I thought. But then he would smile, or laugh, or go quiet in that way that meant he was thinking about his past, and I would be forced to stop. In many ways Marik is strong, stronger than I am even, but in others he is so very, very vulnerable. I couldn't take advantage. I still can't.

Which is why we are still here today.

I allow a whoosh of air to hiss passed my teeth, hand tightening around the decrepit old phone. I should just call him already. If he's busy, then he's busy, but if he isn't then he can just get his lazy ass straight over here. But if he isn't busy, why hasn't he called me already? He usually does...

_Maybe he got sick of waiting._

Shut it, Ryou. Whatever. I'm going to call.

The phone is by my ear in seconds, my fingers tightening with each ring until he finally picks up and Marik's tired voice sounds down the line. "Bakura, I'm sorry, I've been meaning to call you but Ishizu got sick and Odion's been fretting..."

"Whatever," I grind out, voice as cold as ever. "Just get over here."

A snort. "You're as polite always, I see."

"I missed you." Damn. I had _not_ just admitted that out loud.

There was a silence, and I could almost hear his surprise. I cut in quickly, before he could read anything else into it. "I need you to fill me in on the Pharaoh; that bastard has _got_ to be close to getting back to Egypt now. I need to be ready."

A sigh, and Marik's voice is once again in my ear. "Not so loud; my siblings are around."

"Just get over here."

"Alright," I swear there's a smile in his tone. "I'm on my way. Don't break anything."

I scoff, beginning a retort but he has already hung up. Alright then, perhaps that wasn't so difficult; talking to Marik never seems difficult once we're actually having a conversation, though. It's just _starting_ it that's the hard part. After all, he has absolutely no reason to associate with me anymore – our partnership ended in Battle City, when he handed my Ring over to Yugi without a second thought. I forgave him for that a lot faster than I thought I would; I suppose it could have had something to do with the way he threw himself at me the moment he saw me again.

It doesn't take long for a knock to sound at the door, and I lazily call, "It's open," Without even bothering to turn around. Only one person would be coming _here_, after all.

I hear him enter, and he speaks first. "Bit dangerous, leaving your door open, isn't it?"

I snort. "As if anyone would steal from me. You're the only one who knows I'm here, anyway."

"True." I feel the sofa shift as he sits down next to me, and I finally look at him. He is smirking. "I'm the only one, hm? I could turn you in so easily."

"Do it and you won't see the morning," I threaten half-heartedly, but he merely laughs. When did he stop being afraid of me? Although, really, I suppose he never was – he has always been the one calling the shots in our relationship.

He turns, sitting cross legged in order to face me. "You may as well stop threatening me, Bakura. I know you never mean any of it."

I cross my arms, sending him a glare. "You hope. But you don't know that for certain."

"Oh yes I do," He grins, triumphant. "You would _miss me,_ right?"

I close my eyes, remembering my early slip-up on the phone, and he laughs. "Don't worry, Bakura; I won't tell anyone."

I growl, opening one eye. "There's nothing to tell."

"Suuuuure." He draws the syllable out, grin lighting up his eyes, although they are gleaming with sadistic enjoyment. "You think that if you like."

I sigh loudly. "You're insufferable."

"So you keep reminding me." Marik chuckles, settling back against the cushions. "Anyway, for your information, the Pharaoh still isn't anywhere near coming to Egypt. He's got some trouble with some guy called Dartz; you know him?"

I raise an eyebrow, shooting Marik a disbelieving look. "Why the hell would you think that I know him? You know everyone I know, in this time period at any rate."

Marik shrugs, eyes dancing. "I dunno. Just figured that you'd know everyone in the least bit evil. What was it you said before? You are the darkness?"

"And don't you forget it." I sniff. "Surprised you remember that, anyway. You were being blown to bits by Ra at the time."

"I remember everything from that day, idiot," Marik scowls, apparently disgruntled. "It's the day you saved me, after all."

I turn to him fully now, surprise evident on my face. "Why is _that_ important?"

"It isn't," Marik responds, too quickly. "Doesn't matter."

"Marik..."

"I said it _doesn't matter."_ He glares at me and I back off, hands raised.

"Alright. Don't get pissy."

"Don't ask stupid questions then," Marik shoots back, hunching up with tense shoulders.

I scowl. "It wasn't stupid; it was a valid question."

"It was stupid, now just drop it."

"You don't win," I mutter, and he laughs, mood light once again.

"Oh, Bakura, it doesn't always have to be a competition, you know."

I smirk at him, eyes lidded. "You only say that because you know you would lose."

"As if." He grins good-naturedly, turning his head and stretching with a yawn. His hair is shining and his skin vibrant; he is the only source of colour in the room. I look away before he can catch me staring, examining the cracked surface of the coffee table instead, wishing that I could just reach out and touch him ... but that is a barrier we have yet to break.

"Bakura?"

I don't look at him. "Hm?"

"Why did you really call me over today?"

Surprised, I look up to see him staring straight at me, head tilted. I lift an eyebrow, tone sardonic when I respond. "To ask about the Pharaoh. Why else?"

_That's a lie and you know it._

Marik shrugs, eyes hiding something that I can't quite read. "No reason. It's just, well, you've never called me before. I'm usually the one having to do all the work."

"You just disappeared," I growl. "I got bored."

"I told you, Ishizu was sick." Marik grins. "And aren't you always bored?"

"Not whilst you're around." The words are out before I've properly thought about them, and I shudder inwardly at their clumsy implication. Now he's going to think I'm an idiot – even more so than he already does, I mean.

There is silence for a long moment, so I risk a look at him. He doesn't meet my eyes, a crease in his brow as he rests his chin in one hand. No doubt he is wondering why I've suddenly started slipping up, when usually all my words are hidden behind a carefully crafted mask of sarcasm and impatience. I wonder this myself; why today? I still have time – not bags of it, but time enough for this. The Pharaoh takes his own sweet time to do anything. I don't have to rush this. I don't have to start it now.

But maybe I've just grown tired of waiting.

He looks back at me, and there is a question in his eyes. "Why do you keep saying stuff like that?"

I raise a brow. He's asking me straight out? Brave. "Stuff like what?"

He snorts. "You know full well what I'm talking about. And before you try to deny it," He holds up a hand, "Don't bother, because I can see from your expression."

"Like hell you can."

"It's in your eyes." His violet irises burn as they meet mine. "I can tell. So why? Why are you being so – for lack of a better word – _affectionate?_"

I cross my arms, not looking away as I stare straight into his soul. He is truly curious, but there is something else he is hiding; something he doesn't want me to see. Impatience flashes across his features but I merely lean back, countering his question with one of my own. "Why does it matter?"

"Why does it matter?" He looks incredulous. "Why does it _matter?!_ Bakura, you of all people should know exactly why it matters! You never, _ever,_ say anything even _remotely_ nice to me. What's got into you today?"

I stare back, unblinking. He's right, of course; usually I make a point of remaining cold and aloof. But I have had enough of waiting, of watching but not touching, of wanting but not being. Gods know I have had little enough pleasure in my many liftetimes; isn't it about time I got something of my own?

Yes. Marik is the one to finally break me.

Impatiently, I snap back, "Does something have to have _got into me?_ Can't I simply wish to spend some time with someone close to me?"

Marik is well and truly surprised now, jaw falling open. "Wh-what?"

"You heard," I growl, falling back against the cushions, pinning him with a glare. "Do I have to deal with you looking like a gormless monkey every time I let slip that your company might actually be a little bit pleasurable to me?"

He pulls himself together at that, granting me a smile, although it's still a little stiff. "Of course not. But forgive me if I wasn't exactly expecting any sentiment from you."

That interests me; has he picked up on nothing at all, then? Why else would I keep letting him come around here? Gods, he can be dense sometimes. "Oh? And why not, _Ishtar?"_

Marik lifts his eyebrows. "Are you kidding me? You never want me around!"

I crack at that. "For the love of Ra, Marik, why on earth would you think that?"

He looks shocked, so I am quick to continue. "Why would I keep taking your calls and letting you in to my house? Why would I sit and listen to your endless drivel? Why on earth would I call _you_ when you hadn't been around for a while?"

He blinks. "...Oh."

I roll my eyes with a heavy sigh. "Idiot."

"Hey!" Marik glares at that. "It's your fault. You're the one who never makes me feel like I'm actually _wanted_ around here."

"That's just because you're slow." I shoot him a sly grin. "And if you didn't think you were wanted, why do you keep coming back?"

He leans forwards, eyes glinting. "Why did you ask me around today?"

I lift a brow, unable to stop myself from leaning closer. "Why do you think?"

Marik is so close, I can feel his breath warm my pallid skin. The heat waving off him is incredible, and I find that all I want is to curl closer, and just for a while, feel the warmth of life again. "I think," He mutters finally, "That you are extremely confusing."

I don't respond straight away, meeting his gaze; he is still hiding something. I sense rather than see the rise and fall of his chest as his hair swings into his eyes; he blinks it away, not once breaking eye contact. He appears to be studying me as much as I am studying him.

In the end, I throw caution to the wind. I just come straight out and say it. "If I told you that I loved you, what would you say?"

Marik stares back, unblinking, although there is a definite shift in his expression; his eyes widen slightly, lips parting in a soft, barely-there gasp. He takes a moment to respond, as if truly thinking over my words; I can't help but wonder what is really going on behind that expression. Usually I can read him so well, but today it seems like he is holding something back; hiding something...

"I would say," He finally responds, voice carefully devoid of emotion, "That you had lost your mind. We both know that you don't care – you said so when we first met, remember?"

I shake my head, tone impatient. "That was then. This is now."

"So, what?" Marik looks surprised for a moment before schooling his face back into an impassive mask. "Are you telling me that you've suddenly remembered how to feel? I think that's a little far-fetched, especially considering this is _you_ we're talking about."

I pause for a moment, mulling over his words with one pale finger on my chin. He has a point, after all – who am I to feel anything as ridiculous as _love?_ An ancient spirit, without even a body I can call my own? I have nothing except my revenge.

So why does it no longer feel like enough?

I look back to him, impatience flaring in my borrowed brown eyes. "Stop being dense, Marik, as difficult as I know that is for you. I _am_ still human – or at least, a part of me is – so would you just answer the question? It's only hypothetical, anyway."

"You're only part human?" He frowns at me, confusion twisting his features. "Why? What else are you?"

The demon within my soul shudders, but I ignore it. "Doesn't matter. Just answer the question."

Marik raises a brow, but he doesn't push me; he learnt not to do that the hard way. A smirk pulls at one side of his mouth. "Hypothetically, you say?"

"Yes." I roll my eyes. "I've already said that. So just get on with it."

He falls silent again, head tilting attractively to one side, and my eyes instantly zone in on the exposed skin of his brown neck. The temptation to kiss it is overwhelming.

"You know, Bakura," Marik finally responds with a grin, "_Hypothetically,_ I would turn you down. I'm way out of your league, after all."

I growl threateningly and he laughs, the sound dropping like finely melted silver through the air. Clearly, he isn't going to make this easy. "Be serious, Marik," I sniff haughtily, turning away, "If anyone's out of anyone's league, I think we both know that_ you_ are far below me."

"As if," Marik snorts, but there is still something hidden in his eyes. "Why the hell would you ask me something like that?"

I shrug, looking away from his piercing gaze. As I suspected, he doesn't leave the subject there. "Come on, Bakura. You've been acting strangely ever since you called earlier."

"_I've_ been acting strangely?" I lift a sardonic brow, eyeing him disbelievingly. "You were the one harping on about me never wanting you around."

"And you were the one who brought up love, completely out of nowhere!" Marik shook his head, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. "So I'll ask again: where the hell did that question come from?"

I respond impatiently. "Does it matter?"

"Yes." Marik is certainly smirking now. "Because I can only think of one reason why you would ask me that."

I don't say anything, merely watching him as he leans forwards, eyes still hiding something. He puts his lips right next to my skin, whispering the words straight into my ear. "I don't think there's anything hypothetical about it. I think you truly mean what you said."

I regard him silently as he pulls back, but his lips soon twist into a smile. "Am I right?"

The silence holds a moment longer before I slowly reply, "And if you were?"

"Hypothetically."

"Of course."

Marik snorts, gaze bright as he meets mine. "Well, that's a shame. Because if it wasn't hypothetical I would kiss you right now."

The words don't register straight away, and he is already speaking again before I can respond. "Real shame, to be honest, because if this went on much longer I was going to just do it anyway. I probably would have by now, if Ishizu hadn't got sick."

I finally pull of enough of my senses together to smirk. "Damn your sister, then."

"Yes." He frowns, risking a look back at me. "Wait, what?"

The only reply I give him is to lean forwards and press my lips to his.

He doesn't remain still for long as I move closer, grasping his hips and increasing the pressure on his mouth. He presses against me eagerly, tan hands moving to clutch the front of my jacket as his mouth opens gently, and I feel something wet brush my lips. They part automatically and he is inside my mouth, tongue darting around my own until I force myself out of my daze and push back against him, exploring; he tastes of coffee, he must have had some just before coming over. I can still feel him though, under my fingers, against my tongue, pressed _so close to me_ in a way I had hardly dared to imagine up until this point. He pulls away slowly, forehead on mine, hands on my jacket, safe within my arms as I tighten my grip on his hips. He blinks his eyes open, meeting my gaze instantly, and he is open to me now; nothing is hidden anymore. I smirk. "Who gave you coffee?"

He lets out a small laugh. "Of all the things to say, you go with that?"

"It was pretty much all I could taste."

He grimaces a little. "Yeah. I needed it, though; Odion's got us taking shifts to watch Ishizu through the night. I haven't had more than two hours sleep in a week."

"You know," I smirk, catching a piece of blonde hair and tucking it behind his ear, "You could always just stay here."

He meets my gaze with a twist of his lips. "As if. Why would I want to stay with you?"

"I thought we just established that."

Marik laughs quietly, leaning forwards again to brush his lips against mine. I close my eyes for a moment, but there is still something I need to say. "Marik..."

"Hm?" He doesn't open his eyes as he rests against me, laying his head on my chest. I sigh into his hair.

"I meant it earlier, when I said I wasn't fully human. And when the Pharaoh returns to Egypt, I will play the final shadow game."

Marik lifts a brow, raising his head just enough to shoot me a look. "I know. Your point?"

I sigh heavily. "My point is, I probably won't be around for a while."

"You'll be coming back though," Marik glares. "Right?"

I roll my eyes. "Naturally. But you have to accept the fact that there is a possibility I might not. Never mind the fact that you're meant to be on _his_ side now."

He chews his lip, pulling back from me, and now I miss his warmth more than ever. I realise with a quiet resignation that I don't want him to go.

"Don't worry about it, Bakura," Marik eventually replies, and I feel fingers brush my cheek. "To be honest, I don't really care how long we have. I thought you died in Battle City; after that, any time is borrowed time. Let's just enjoy it while we can."

I let the words wash over me, closing my eyes briefly before meeting his gaze again. I am the one to move this time, curling into his chest and pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of his neck; his warmth surrounds me, and I am content. "Sounds good to me, Marik."

His arms settle around me and he shifts back, pulling me up onto his lap as he settles more comfortably into my sofa. I sink into him, my head against his shoulder, and sigh when I feel fingers tangle in my hair. I smirk, speaking softly into his ear. "So, you never answered my question properly."

"Hm?" He sounds tired, but content.

"My question. What would you say, if I told you that I love you?"

A kiss pressed to my forehead, and a voice in my hair. "I would say, I love you too. As if you didn't know that already."

I smile, settling closer, and his arms tighten around me. I think back to his earlier words, and realise he is right; it doesn't matter how much time we have, as long as we enjoy what little we've been given.

**It's very, very fluffy. I know. But hey, it fit the prompt (at least, I hope it did!) Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! - Jem**


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